“Remember the rules,” Harry said, as they resumed their position behind the subs, single tails in hand. “Don’t come without permission. And don’t let go of the ribbon.”
Harry and Jack wielded their whips in unison, the sound of the leather tips flicking sharply against soft flesh cracking in the air. It wasn’t long before dark red welts appeared on Leah’s already reddened skin. She began to pant, her hips moving in an erotic gyration.
Brooke moaned softly, a tremor moving through her body when Jack’s whip snaked across her thighs. Finally, Jack thought, a reaction. He struck her other thigh and she drew in a sharp hiss of breath. Jack loved the play of sound and movement as the whip cracked, her flesh jiggled, and she moaned, a guttural grunt of pain and lust that hardened his cock.
Harry nudged Jack’s shoulder, startling him. “Let’s switch,” he murmured, gesturing that they should change places. Jack didn’t really want to, but he didn’t want to be rude, and so he acquiesced.
Leah was mewling, her body trembling with approaching orgasm. She clenched the ribbon in her small fist, and her body was bathed in sweat. She groaned and shuddered.
Focusing fully on the lovely blonde, Jack struck her with the tail several times in succession. Leah squealed and, without warning, suddenly jerked and twisted to the side. It was too late to stop the stroke, which as a result of her unexpected movement, missed its mark and landed instead across her belly, leaving a thin, white line that rapidly turned to dark, angry red.
Leah howled and let go of the ribbon, reaching with her free hand for the spot the whip had marked. “Ow! Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she swore, her voice edging toward hysteria, though she didn’t use her safeword.
Nevertheless, Jack dropped his whip and reached quickly for her cuff, tearing open the Velcro closures. Harry had dropped his whip as well, and he had moved to retrieve the remotes, which he clicked off.
Jack wrapped his arms around the still trembling girl and pulled her close.
“You dropped the ribbon, you naughty girl,” Harry snapped. “You must be punished.”
“In a minute,” Jack said softly. “Let her calm down.” To Leah, he murmured soothingly, “Shh, it’s okay, Leah. The skin’s not broken. You’re okay. You moved out of position. I’m sorry that happened.”
“It was her fault, not yours,” Harry interrupted. “Stop coddling the girl. She’s a pro, for god’s sake.”
Jack wasn’t at all sure that was true. Ignoring Harry, he said, “Are you okay, Leah? You want to continue or do you need to stop?” He noticed Brooke out of the corner of his eye. Still cuffed, she was watching them with a bemused, superior expression.
“I-I’m okay,” Leah said, her voice catching. “Master Harry is right. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have jerked like that. I don’t want to stop the scene, Sir. I’m sorry.”
Jack let her go and stepped back. Harry moved to Leah and pointed to the ground, his tone stern, “Kneel and await my decree, sub girl.”
She dropped prettily to her knees and lowered her head, but not before Jack saw the smirk on her pretty face. Harry caught Jack’s eye, a grin flashing over his face.
It’s all a game, just a game for them both. The realization stuck like a lump in Jack’s throat. He swallowed hard and admonished himself. Of course it was just a game—what else could it be? They were all strangers, satisfying a kink, earning a buck. There was no harm in that.
As Harry patted Leah’s blond head, Jack released Brooke’s wrist cuff. She still held the red ribbon in her free hand as she waited patiently for the scene to continue.
Leaving the girls for a moment, Harry gestured for Jack to follow him a distance from them. He glanced at his watch. “We still have thirty-five minutes. Okay with you if we split up? I’ll take Leah. I’ve got something in mind for her punishment involving a little doctor-patient play. The water dungeon is available—I checked.”
“Sure,” Jack agreed, pleased at the idea of some alone time with Brooke. “I’ve been wanting to try it out. If Brooke’s game, that is.”
They returned to the girls. Harry oversaw the removal of the butterflies, which the girls dropped into the sink in the small bathroom that adjoined the dungeon, while Jack put away the gear.
Harry put his arm around Leah’s shoulders and hustled her out of the dungeon, intoning, “Time for your punishment, you naughty, naughty girl. The doctor will see you now.”
“Yes, Master Harry. Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir!” Leah breathed in her high, girlish voice.”
“Gather your things,” Jack instructed Brooke. “No need to dress just yet,” he added, admiring her ass as she bent to retrieve her clothing. With a last glance at Harry, who was already busy strapping Leah down on the exam table, Jack led Brooke out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.
He stopped just outside the water dungeon and turned to Brooke. “Tell me, do you like water play?”
A flash of something moved over her features—desire, fear? Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, replaced by her prior implacable calm. “Whatever pleases you, Sir. I seek only to obey.”
“What’s your background in the scene?” And who are you, really? What makes you tick? What matters to you? What moves you? Instinctively he knew she wouldn’t welcome these questions. This was a job for her. He had no right to probe.
“I’ve always enjoyed BDSM play but mostly I just hang out at the clubs. This is my first professional sub gig. I hope I’m pleasing you, Sir.” Her words were correct, but her affect was curiously flat, the opposite of the breathy, giddy Leah.
Jack nodded, annoyed with himself for wanting more than this woman could be expected to give. After all, he knew what he was getting when he agreed to the joint scene with Harry. Things would be better when he found someone who shared his need for romance and passion along with the eroticism of scene BDSM.
“You have pleased me so far, Brooke,” he assured her. He would make the best of the remaining time. Maybe he’d even manage to get a reaction beyond obedience from this lovely but reserved young woman. “Let’s see how you handle a little water play.” Again the look of fear, sparked with desire, flitted over her face. Smiling, Jack took her hand.
They stepped into the water dungeon, the clicking sound of Brooke’s heels echoing in the tiled room. “Oh,” Brooke breathed, the word apparently pulled from her before she could stop it. She stared at the submersion tank, which looked like a large fish aquarium, its sides made of thick, clear Plexiglas. Along the outside it was bordered by a laminated wooden platform for ease of entry into the water. A molded plastic bench had been built into either end inside the tank. A high table stood along the backside of the tank, various cuffs, blindfolds, chains and erotic torture toys neatly arrayed and waiting for use.
Jack had arranged with Phillip to make sure the tank was heated that evening, and wisps of steam rose from the water, the faint smell of chlorine in the air. He looked at Brooke. Color had seeped into her cheeks and splashed across her chest, and she seemed mesmerized as she continued to stare at the tank.
At last—a real reaction.
“Are you experienced with water bondage and submersion play?” Jack asked, placing his hand on the back of Brooke’s neck.
“Yes, um, no, I mean, a little bit, Sir,” she stammered, suddenly as breathy as her sister sub, Leah.
“Explain yourself,” Jack said, keeping his voice neutral, though he was pleased and excited by her reaction.
“Uh, a boyfriend and I, we, uh, he had this hot tub on his deck. He would sometimes hold me under. I would suck his cock, Sir, and he wouldn’t let me up sometimes for a long time. It’s, I mean it was”—she wrapped her arms protectively around her torso and he noticed her nipples were erect—“really scary.”
“Scary bad or scary sexy?”
She faced Jack, her dark brown eyes expressive with what could only be called longing. “Scary sexy, Sir,” she whispered.
Jack regarded her from hooded eyelids, his co
ck throbbing. “I like the idea of a blow job under water. Would that suit you, sub girl?”
“Oh, yes, Sir,” Brooke said eagerly, her eyes flicking down to his crotch.
Jack wasted no time getting out of his clothing. Once naked, he stepped onto the wooden platform and lifted his leg over the side of the tank. Standing in the pleasantly warm water, he held out a hand to Brooke, gesturing for her to join him. Once she was in front of him in the tank, he said, “I’d like to cuff your wrists behind you, to heighten the effect of submission for you. Do I have your permission, sub girl?”
Brooke swallowed visibly and then nodded, placing her hands behind her back of her own accord. “Yes, Sir,” she said huskily, thrusting her gorgeous breasts toward him.
Jack reached for a pair of leather cuffs. Directing Brooke to turn around, he clipped them in place around her wrists. Her ass and thighs were still prettily marked with thin welts from the single tail. “Kneel up in the water,” he instructed as he settled himself on one of the benches.
Brooke knelt as instructed, the water coming to just below her breasts. “Come closer,” Jack said. “I want to assess your comfort level with dunking and breath control.”
Brooke scooted forward until she was close to Jack. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on either of her shoulders. “When I press, you go down. You stay down until I release you. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Brooke replied, her eyes fixed on his, fully engaged.
He pressed gently but firmly against her shoulders, and Brooke sank beneath the water, her long, dark hair floating about her head. He held her there as he counted to ten, and then released his grip. She bobbed up and drew in a breath as she shook back her wet hair from her face.
“Good,” Jack said. “Can you stay down longer?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He dunked her again, this time counting to fifteen. They repeated the exercise several times, with him finally holding her down a full forty seconds. He was aware the average person could hold their breath for around a minute, but didn’t want to push her too far. When he let go, she burst up through the water, this time sucking in air with an audible gasp.
Satisfied he’d found her limit, he asked, “How are you doing, Brooke? Ready to proceed?”
“Yes, Sir.” Beads of water hung from her dark lashes and she blinked them away.
“Okay. Here’s what I expect.” He pointed to his erect shaft bobbing beneath the surface. “You will suck my cock until you make me come. Obviously you won’t have the use of your hands, but I’m sure you’re up to the task.” He smiled in anticipation. “You don’t have to swallow if you don’t want to. You can hold it in your mouth and spit it into this cup.” He reached for a small, disposable plastic cup from the side table and moved it closer.
“Excuse me, Sir. I would like to swallow.”
Jack nodded, doubly pleased. Did one tip these girls, he wondered. He would have to find out. “Excellent,” he said aloud. “I will place my hand on your head to hold you down while you worship my cock, but all you have to do is push back a little if you need to rise. I’m not into drowning you here—I want us both to enjoy the eroticism of water submission, okay?” Leaning forward, he stroked the wet hair away from her face.
“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir. Thank you, Master Jack.” For the first time that evening, she smiled. There was a small gap between her front teeth, and a deep dimple appeared in her left cheek. It was an altogether charming smile, and Jack found himself actually liking the girl for the first time, along with desiring her.
Was it possible…? Maybe…?
He veered away from the thought before completing it.
Settling back on the bench, he placed his hand on Brooke’s head and gently pushed her down beneath the water. Her mouth slid like a velvet glove over his cock, gliding down the shaft as she milked him with her lips and tongue. After fifteen seconds or so, he removed his hand. She rose from the water and took a deep breath then, before he could even put his hand again on her head, plunged back down, seeking and finding his shaft with her eager mouth.
Fully aroused by both the situation and her reaction, it wasn’t long before Jack was ready to come. He let her up for a final breath and then pushed her beneath the water. Almost as soon as her mouth closed once more over his cock, a powerful orgasm twisted through him with the force of a tidal wave.
For the first time, she pushed back against his hand, and Jack realized he’d held her down a little too long, caught up in the throes of his climax. He abruptly released his hold and she bolted up through the water like a bullet, gasping for air.
Jack reached for her, turning her so he could pull her back against him. The bench was deep, with room for two. Settling back against the Plexiglas wall, he cradled her between his legs, her bound arms captured between their bodies.
Reaching around her body, he found her clit and gave it a light flick. She moaned. “Hungry girl,” he murmured against her ear. She didn’t reply. He stroked the nubbin, and then slipped his fingers down into the silky, wet heat inside her, his cock hardening despite the recent orgasm.
She groaned and arched against his hand. “Please,” she begged, all traces of her earlier decorum gone. “Please.”
“Please what?” Jack said, grinding his palm against her clit as he fucked her with two fingers.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh,” she gasped.
“Please what?” he insisted, wrapping his other arm around her torso to hold her in place.
“Please don’t stop, Sir. Please, oh god! Oh, please. Please, Sir, make me come!”
Jack rubbed and teased the girl’s swollen sex, his other arm binding her in place against him. He wanted to fuck her, but knew the limits. He contented himself with the pleasure of his power over her, as he made her shake and tremble in his arms. “Now,” he whispered as he felt her shudder. “Come for me, sub girl.”
“Oh god!” she cried, bucking against him. “Yes! Robert! Robert, oh Rob—” She stiffened suddenly, biting off the word, though it continued to echo in the room, grown suddenly cold. She twisted out of Jack’s arms, and he let her go.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, her face red with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” Jack said abruptly, rising from the tub. “It happens.” He reached for her shoulders, spinning her away from him, ostensibly so he could remove the cuffs, but mainly because he didn’t want the mix of emotions moving through him to be revealed to this girl, this sub for hire.
Chapter 6
I’m thirsty. So thirsty.
Oh fuck, it hurts. Oh fuck. Fuck.
Stop focusing on the pain. This can’t go on forever. And when you get down, you get a hot shower. He promised. A hot shower. Maybe something hot to eat. Something cold to drink.
Oh fuck, it hurts!
Eva screamed.
She hated to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt her. She’d meant to stay quiet, but the pain spilled out in a howl. The clover clamps cut into her labia, the chains pulled taut to force her nether lips apart. But it was the clamp he’d just applied directly to her clit, its razor sharp teeth biting into tender flesh, which wrenched that cry from her.
She was suspended upside down, her legs splayed wide in their chains, her bound arms numb behind her back. Cold, gooey lubricant was squirted over her spread pussy and then she felt the hard, invasive press of a thick phallus at her entrance. Master Phillip pushed the huge object inside her and flipped a switch, sending shuddering pulsations radiating through her core.
“Open your eyes, slave,” Master Phillip commanded. “See what I’m offering you.”
Food? Water? Would she be able to drink while upside down?
Eve forced herself to obey. As her eyes adjusted, she saw her captor looming over her, his muscular legs inches from her face. As he stepped back, she saw he was naked, his erect cock fisted in his hand.
“We’re going to play a game,” he announced. “I’m going to jer
k off and shoot my load on your face. If you can catch my jizz on your tongue, then I’ll let you down. And to make the prize even sweeter, the more you swallow, the longer your nice, hot shower will be.”
Though the effort made her dizzy, Eva struggled to lift her head. She opened her mouth as she stared at his heavy balls and the underside of his shaft. If he really came on her face, she should be able to catch at least some of it in her mouth. She had to—that was all there was to it.
But what if he rigged it so she missed? There was always a “flip side” to his games. He took special sadistic pleasure in setting her up to fail, and then claiming with mock sorrow that he had no choice but to punish her.
“On the flip side,” he intoned, predictably, “if you don’t manage to catch at least a little of my nectar, then I’ll piss in your mouth, and that’ll be all you get to drink until tomorrow. And of course, no shower, which would be a shame, since you stink, pig.”
Rage bloomed, white and hot, in her chest. How she hated this man—this beautiful monster with his black heart and maggoty soul. She nurtured her hatred as she swayed in her chains, taking what strength she could from it. Rage was so much better than the apathy and passivity that claimed her more and more often lately. Fury was far better than the bleak, vast emptiness when she found herself accepting she would never get out of this prison, never escape this madman, except through death.
She couldn’t let herself go there. She had to keep hope alive, however small the chance of breaking free. The key lay in when he let her out to clean downstairs. When she was free of the confines of this room, at least she had a chance of escape, however slim.
She had to find a way to be alone, at least for a little while, when she was allowed out. She had to make him think he’d broken her. He had to be truly convinced she had turned into a brainwashed, zombie sex slave. She had to make the deluded, sadistic egomaniac believe she had bought into his madness, and embraced it as her own.
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